The Beginning of the Dream
by Agent Malkere
Summary: I jus’ wanted ta look at the rabbits, George. He said he had rabbits. I didn’t mean ta let out no horses.


_**The Beginning of the Dream **_

_Agent Malkere _

_A/N: This takes place a while before the beginning of 'Of Mice and Men.'_

Up high overhead the clouds were thickening, all but obscuring the starry night sky with their promise of rain. Down on the earth below two men were huddled beneath the gnarled branches of an ancient oak tree, both oblivious to the impending storm. The smaller of the two lay limp, sprawled like a rag doll in the larger man's arms. His head lolled to the side displaying a vivid splotch of angry red splattered across his left cheekbone that was already starting to darken down into a nasty bruise. A gash across the smaller man's temple had begun to form a crust of dried brown around the edges but was still oozing blood sluggishly down the man's forehead into his dark mahogany hair. The larger man appeared agitated and upset, shaking his head slightly and mumbling to himself incoherently as he rocked back and forth with his friend's limp body cradled in his arms. With one large hand he clumsily patted the smaller man's hair like a small child trying to pet a cat. Every now and then he'd stop rocking and lean down closer to his friend to say, "Gotta wakeup now, George. This ain't no time ta be sleepin'. Gotta wakeup," and he'd watch George's face intently for several moments before returning to his incoherent mumbling when nothing happened. 

Just when it seemed the larger man was on the verge of panicked tears, George's hand twitched and he stirred groaning quietly. The larger man's face lit up and he leaned forward again. 

"George, you awake?" 

"Yeah, Lennie, but if you keep shoutin' like that I may not be for long." 

Lennie's face creased with unhappy confusion.

"But I ain't shountin', George." 

"Ain't ya? Sure sounds like it," George muttered, struggling to sit up in his large friend's grasp. "Ah!" He collapsed backwards again, reflexively pressing one shaking hand to his forehead as a bolt of white hot pain shot through his temple and his stomach protested at the rapid movement. George cracked open an eye to see Lennie's worried face looming over him and tried to squint past the haze that was blurring his vision. "Where are we, anyway?" 

"Under a big tree by the road," Lennie answered obediently. A sigh escaped George's lips and he rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to think around his headache. 

"Nah, that ain't what I meant. What I meant was, ain't we on the Paulson's ranch no more?" 

"No, we ain't." Lennie shook his head vigorously, like a dog shaking off water. "After that man hit you and made you fall asleep he said… he said…" His face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to remember the exact words and then he slowly recited. "If'in's… if'in's we ever come back… he'd shoot the both of us… and then he'd go ta work on us," Lennie finished triumphantly, proud he'd been able such a long string of words. 

"And then what happened?" 

"I gots our bindles and I gots you and I carried you all the way here like one of them sacs a' grain I was puttin' on them wagons yesterday."

George patted Lennie on the shoulder with a still trembling hand. 

"Good boy." Lennie beamed at his friend's praise. "Now which way didja go when ya left?" 

"I- I went through the orchard… 'til I found a road. Then I followed the road." 

"Ya sure?" 

"Yeah, George. I went through the orchard 'til I found the road and then I followed the road 'cause roads always know where they're goin'." 

"Good," George mumbled again. "Now are ya gonna tell me what ya was doin' in Mr. Paulson's barn in the middle o' the night?" 

"I jus' wanted ta look at the rabbits, George. He said he had rabbits. I didn't mean ta let out no horses." 

Letting out another gusty sigh George shifted slightly trying to find a more comfortable position in his friend's hold. 

"What the hell is it with you an' rabbits?" 

"They're all soft, George. I like pettin' 'em. There's more of 'em ta pet than there is mice 'cause rabbits ain't so little." 

"Well, ya gotta stop lookin' for rabbits every place we stop. People start to wondering when a big guy like you keeps sneaking off to the barn ta pet animals." 

Lennie's face crinkled up with disappointment. 

"I wasn't sneakin', George." 

"Like hell you weren't." Some of the fog that had been clouding George's vision abated just enough for him to catch a glimpse of his friend's hurt expression and he relented slightly. "Look, when we get ourselves enough money saved up, ya can have your own rabbits." 

Lennie brighten immediately at the idea and his ears all but perked up as he straightened up from the slouch he'd been hunched over in. 

"Can I, George?" 

"Sure ya can," George mumbled, his words slurring a touch as the jostling of Lennie's sudden movement sent new waves of pain through his head. Just as quickly as his excitement had come, however, Lennie's face fell. 

"But- But I ain't got nowhere ta puts any rabbits. They wouldn't fit in m' pockets." 

"Ya dummy, ya don't put rabbits in pockets – ya put 'em in a hutch." 

"A hutch?" 

"Yeah, a hutch." 

"Would that fit in m' bindle, George?" 

A quiet snort of laughter escaped Lennie's friend at the idea. 

"Nah, ya gotta leave it in one place. It'd be too big ta carry 'round with you."

"Then where'd we put it, George?" asked Lennie earnestly, very concerned about the fate of his prospective rabbits. 

"We'll get our own little place and we can put it right outside the kitchen by the garden." 

"Our own place?" 

"Sure, we'll have a barn and a couple o' acres and nobody ta boss us around." George grinned slightly to himself at the idea. He'd never thought of him and Lennie having their own ranch together before but… he liked the sound of it. It was the type of thing he could imagine to get Lennie and himself through some of the bad times… and there'd been a lot of bad times lately. "And no Mr. Paulson tryin' ta sucker punch you for horse thieving," he added darkly under his breath, but Lennie didn't hear him. 

"And we'll really have rabbits?" 

"Yeah, and you can take care o' them." 

"Can I, George?" asked Lennie, eagerly leaning forward and accidentally jostling his friend's head again. George choked back a moan, trying not to lose his train of thought.

"Sure, but only if you start remembering things better." 

"I found the road." 

"And that's good. See? You're already getting' better. All we have ta do now is save up some money." 

"I can do that, George." 

"I know you can," George mumbled, reaching up to pat his friend on the shoulder again as his mind started to drift back towards the dark depths of unconsciousness. "I know you can."


End file.
